Pawna Joker story
by thechanelkitty
Summary: umm, ya hi : first story here on so plz be nice to me. I really dont have a summary bc its kinda just a new thought i got today in my head but i hope u read rate and review. it would be greatly appreciated : Batman/OC/Joker rated T to be safe
1. Chapter 1

"_And in other news, Gotham's most wanted man, the Joker is again on the loose, having just robbed a mob bank yesterday. He is confirmed to be armed and extremely dangerous. If anyone has any information on this dangerous criminal, please call GCPD at 479-251-9076 immediately"_, blared my alarm clock. Slowly, I was shaken out of my unconscious dreaming state to reality and 8:00 flashing at me in big red digital numbers. I rolled out of my bed slamming down on the snooze button.

_Ugh, _I thought to myself, _Must we really hear about that psychopath first thing in the damn morning? _Truly, that was the reason I switched my station to GC News channel. Really, I did want to hear about the Joker first thing in the morning so I knew what places to avoid that day. I then proceeded to drag myself to the bathroom and take a shower letting the water envelop me and calm me down for a short time before I go off into the hostile Gotham world. After that, I picked out an outfit and got ready for work. A black pair of skinnies, a blue Famous Stars and Straps shirt and my Taylor boots. After brushing and teasing my black hair to perfection, I looked at myself in the mirror and applied a coat of eyeliner to my eyes and clear lipgloss to my lips and proceeded to run, grab my keys and purse, ready to face the world. I went into the hallway and locked my apartment door rushed down the stairs to my car, because it was 8:30 and I am supposed to be at work at 8:45.

Where am I going at 8:30 in the morning dressed as I am? Good question. See, I work at _Shadow_, Gotham's most famous nightclub. I am a bartender there and I take care of the morning shift. The night owls take all of the action, but by four they're all ready to go home and that's where I come in. For three hours the club is closed until eight, when all the big business men in come in for their daily Brandy Alexanders, which I gladly supply them. In my car, _I'm So Sick_ by Flyleaf played from my car as I sped down the road toward _Shadow._ Finally I got there and right on time too. I unlocked the doors to the club and turned on the green party lights behind, the bar. I pulled a bar stool behind the bar counter and grabbed People magazine, waiting for the first customers of the morning.

Snapping me from the paparazzi propaganda of the morning was Sal Maroni, Gamble and the Russian mob boss whose name I never seemed to remember strolled in casually as they did everyday.

"Morning Kara," said Maroni casually.

"Mornin' Sally" I called back.

Now I know what you must be thinking at this point. _'_Why am I saying Good Morning to mob bosses?' Well, I'll tell you. The bosses and I are friends. They come in every morning before their "meetings" and have a drink so I know each of them pretty well, except for the Russian one. Yeah, if people knew that I was friends with the bosses, they'd probably ask if I knew their reputations. And I do, but to me they're all just ordinary people who happen to have questionable jobs.

"What does everyone want this morning?" I asked cheerily, already knowing the answer.

"The usual Kay," called Gamble back to me.

I nodded and pouring each of them their respective Martinis, Mojitos and Vodkas I pulled my barstool up to the counter and started our daily conversation.

"How are the kids Sally?" I asked Maroni.

"Good," he replied back. "The wife-y says hi."

"Great," I said "Good to hear it. Tell her I said hi back and that lunch was great. How's the girlfriend Gamble?"

"We're alright, not great. I just don't get you women and your mood swings." He said, taking a sip of his martini.

"We're not that hard to figure out Gamble," I said laughing "If she's mad at you, try spending a night in watching an old movie or going out to dinner. She'll appreciate the quality time."

Yes, I am also their Dr. Phil too. The boys come to me for advice on everything when it comes to relationships.

"Makes sense," he replied thoughtfully.

"Well, we'd love to chat some more, but we've got business to attend to. Meeting to hold and money to make" Sal said chuckling.

"Sure," I said. "See you when you get out."

The men nodded, leaving the money for the drinks, $300 total, with some VERY big tips for me. I smiled.

A little while after I had gone back to reading, Sara, the owner of _Shadow _came in. Sara is my best friend from high school. She had always said that she was going to open a nightclub and told me that when I was out of bartending school to look for her. I did, and she gave me a job.

"Mornin' Kara." She said.

"Mornin' Sara" I said back.

"You need help or are the boys in their meeting already?" she asked me.

"No I'm good, they've already gotten the meeting started." I replied.

"Okay well, I'll be right back, I'm gunna run to the bathroom real quick and then we can talk."

"Sure take your time."

I was too preoccupied in People to notice something eerie going on, the something that changed my life as I had known it up to that point.

It started with footsteps echoing through the dark club, which was only illuminated by the high window at the back and the green bar light behind me. It caught my attention.

"Hello?" I called out. "Sara, you back yet?"

No answer. And yes, while this is cliché, it never crossed my mind to run. I was too dumb to recognize that Sara wasn't playing a trick on me and that I should have run like the devil himself was after me. But the man that was in the club that day might well have been the devil's reincarnate.

Suddenly, the footsteps stopped. I felt hot breath on my neck and I nearly fainted when I heard a slightly high pitched voice,

"Well helloo beautiful."


	2. A fateful Encounter

Cool metal was suddenly at my neck. I froze. I didn't try and run. I didn't utter a word. If you had been a fly on the wall, I the expression on my face would be pure terror. I guess the Joker had seen that too, as he uttered a deep throated, squeaky chuckle that sent shivers down my spine. I knew not to move though, because if I had, he would have slit my throat right on the spot without a second thought. All of a sudden, I felt an arm snake around my waist and turn me around to face him.

"And just who might you be?" Curiosity and lust flickered in his eyes. I didn't reply. He kept asking me questions.

"You seem nervous," he said with mock worry in his voice "Is it the scars?"

I simply stared with a dumb look on my face. In my mind, however, I was scolding myself. I had worked so hard to avoid this man; hanging on the news's every word, remembering locations to stay away from. I never went out by myself at night and always traveled with a group of friends when I did. Yet still, the one place I expected myself to be safe, he shows up.

At this point, I finally got a good look at his face. It took every ounce of the will in my body not to cringe. Charcoal eyeliner lined his eyes up to his eyebrows, making them look sunken in. White face powder was plastered on his face, which made him look like a ghost. His lips were what really got me though. They were blood colored and had a Glasgow smile, something I had seen the boys do to a couple of people that hadn't paid them their money on time. Top it off with a purple and green suit and super faded green and greasy hair and you have the basic picture of the man I was body to body with. Not the most pleasant thing to look at, if you know what I mean. Unfortunately, he caught me staring, and called me out on it.

"What happened doll, you look love struck." He said, pressing the blade a little bit harder into my skin, probably for not answering his questions. He drew blood. I finally mustered up the courage to speak, knowing I couldn't stay silent much longer if I wanted to come out of this alive.

"W- What do you want?" I asked quietly and desperately, searching his eyes for the slightest twinge of sympathy. I found none.

"She speaks!" he said, breaking into a fit of laughter. I relaxed because he moved the blade away from my neck, but as soon as I did, the blade was again at my neck. He was still laughing, as if he had heard the funniest joke in the world.

"I-I want HAHAHAHAHA" he said trying to regain his composure, which, by the looks of him, wasn't working too well. I felt that I was going to die, not from this clown who clearly didn't have any intentions on explaining his purposes to me, but from pure fear and shock.

All of a sudden, the maniacal laughter stopped and he was serious again. Blade, faithfully at my throat, reminding me of the very real possibility of my death, he spoke.

"What I want," he whispered dangerously in my ear "is to know where the party is. Because I know that at eight o'clock in the morning, people that drive Bentleys and Aston Martins don't usually show up at a nightclub just for breakfast and a car wax. "

Immediately I knew he was talking about Sally and Gamble. He knew about the morning meetings. But most of all, he knew that I knew where they met, and that instant I knew what he wanted me to do. But, in spite of all that, I decided to play dumb.

"What are you talking about?" I said with the best incredulous voice I could muster. I looked up at him again to see his facial expression. What I saw scared the living shit out of me. His brown eyes seemed to turn to pools of black ink and the blade was pressed up against my throat even harder than before. Any harder, and the Joker wouldn't have to slit my throat, I'd die from the pressure of the blade. He uttered a sick chuckle.

"Oh, see you're funny. You think that because I look like a clown I'm stupid. I'm not. And in all honesty, I'm getting tired of you wasting my time. Now I know you know where all the drug men of Gotham meet because you served them drinks. At this point, you're either going to lead me to them, or you die in the name of stupidity." He said, venom dripping from his words.

"So, what'll it be?" I looked up at him for about the third time in this whole exchange and saw impatience and anger mixed with mental instability, a lethal cocktail shaken into one very dangerous man. I weighed my options and sighed. I had been defeated.

"The drug lords meet every morning at nine in the kitchen. I'll lead the way."

He uttered a deep throated giggle.

"That-a girl." The blade was removed from my neck and pocketed, and I sighed with relief. My sigh was replaced with a yelp as a felt cool metal at the back of my thin t-shirt. The Joker had replaced the knife, with a loaded gun.

"Walk, beautiful. I wouldn't want to have to shoot ya…yet." I quickly ran from behind the counter, Jokers footsteps close behind mine.

Trudging along, I tripped and landed with a _thud_. I looked to see what I tripped on and saw Sara's body, cold and lifeless with a deep gash across her throat. I covered my mouth and screamed.

The one person who had truly cared about me was gone. Yes it's true, the mob bosses are my friends, but they are only as long as I don't rat them out, which was exactly what I was doing. The second I do, I'm a wanted girl, and the men won't stop until they see me in the grave. I got up, horrified, but kept walking. I asked him why he killed Sara.

"She was simply at the wrong place at the wrong time and I was bored." He said with such a cavalier tone that I wanted to slap him, but didn't dare try it. Groping through the darkness down the hallway toward the kitchen, there was only one thought in my mind: _Please God, don't let him shoot me the second I open the door._

I made one last turn and saw the fluorescent lights, pots and pans marking the kitchen. I turned around looking for the Joker. He was nowhere in sight, which worried me because it was dark and at any moment he could have pulled the trigger on me and the only thing that would be heard was _Bang!_.

I felt the hairs on the back of my neck raise and the inclination to scream intensify as I heard a "Boo!" and hands on the back of my shoulders, pushing me forward. The double doors parted and The lights streamed in on my face, causing me to squint from all the darkness I had previously walked through. At a conference table I saw all ten drug lords of Gotham sitting down, with a television set at the head with an Asian man speaking from it. The men's bodyguards started to approach me and I became frightened. Maroni and Gamble saw me, and while they had surprised looks on their faces, called the bodyguards off.

"Kara," Gamble said, looking at me as if I had three heads "Why are you here?"

"Umm," I replied, fumbling for words, "Someone is here to see you. I think you should speak to him." I spun around looking for the Joker. He was nowhere to be found. _I'm screwed!_ I thought to myself. Without the Joker, I'll look like I was snooping and then they'll all sick the bodyguards on me.

Then, almost as if on queue, I hear the _swish _of a purple trench coat and the bellowing of a very squeaky, childlike yet dramatic voice say, "The fun has arrived!".


End file.
